


Bad Blood

by samtomydeanwinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bad Blood, Dean Winchester Series, F/M, Reader Insert, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:50:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samtomydeanwinchester/pseuds/samtomydeanwinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abaddon seeks revenge on the Winchester brothers after she escapes from their trap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Karma's A Bitch

You'd followed all the rules. Left at a different time on a different day than last time. Took a new route, doubled back to make sure you weren't followed. Chose a different grocery store to last time. You did everything right, just like you promised the boys you would. Yet, you still felt the cold blade press against your throat as someone pulled you backwards into an alley. Despite your best efforts, they pinned you easily against the side of a building, with the knife pressed firmly against your throat. Now you could see your attacker, and his black eyes filled your heart with dread. Footsteps came from further in the darkness, approaching you. You squirmed a little, testing the grip he had on you and trying to work the knife out of your belt. A hand grabbed yours, just short of curling your fingers around the knife handle.

"Tsk tsk, little one." You looked up into the eyes of a red haired woman. Her eyes flicked to black as she spoke.

"Seems I bagged myself a Bambi." She smiled at you and your heart sank so deep it was probably 50ft underground by now. Abaddon gestured to the other demons standing with her, and they flanked you. One pinned and tied your hands while the other slipped an old potato sack over your head. The last thing you felt was a sharp blow, white hot pain, and then nothing.

 

"Sam!" Dean called out to his younger brother as he wandered the bunker looking for him.

"In the library, Dean!" Sam called back.

"It's been two hours. Y/N hasn't called. She knows the rules! Call every hour- no exceptions. And she's not answering her phone either. We gotta go- something's happened." Dean had is jacket on, keys in one hand and his shotgun in the other, eager to leave as soon as possible.

"Shit. Okay, I'm coming." The Winchesters were just getting into the Impala when Dean's phone beeped in his pocket.

"Its, Y/N." He said in disbelief, looking at your name on the screen. "It just says - Check your email. That's it? Check your email? What the hell is she playing at?"

Sam pulled his laptop out of his bag and opened it up on his lap. With a couple of clicks, both he and Dean were staring at a video on the screen.

 

The video was of a dimly lit room with no windows. There were a few figures moving in and out of frame, but they couldn't make any of them out. Except for you. Your hands were tied and hoisted above your head, the rope fixed to the rafter above you. Somebody had stripped you down to your underwear and the exposed skin was covered in cuts and bruises. Your bare feet sat in a  bucket of water underneath you and your head hung down, wet and knotted hair covering your face. You threw your head back and erupted in a guttural scream however, when an electric shock coursed through your body, delivered by cables attached to your body and a car battery. Your body convulsed, swinging and twisting on the rope holding you up. Finally, when it was over, your body hung limp once again.

 Dean slammed his fist into the steering wheel in a fit of pure rage. Hot angry tears lingered in his eyes, threatening to fall. He was half way out of the car, when a voice spoke on the video.

"Hello boys."

Abaddon.

"Remember me? I certainly remember you. And you know what sticks in my mind the most? When the two of you cut me up into itty bitty pieces and buried them all over the place. I was looking forward to repaying the favor to you personally, but then I had an even better idea. I'll cut up your little mascot here."

Sam and Dean turned to each other, anger steaming off them. They had expected repercussions after she'd escaped. But not this, never this. Abaddon kept speaking, drawing their attention back to the screen. Her face filled it, obscuring their view of your tortured body.

"But don't worry boys, I'm in no hurry. I'll make her death nice and slow. You'll have plenty of time to track me down and rush over here. And I'll make sure you get here just in the nick of time... To watch her die. Doesn't this sound like fun?" Her painted red lips curled into a sadistic smile as she relished in the thought of the Winchesters watching their pet Bambi die right in front of them. The screen turned black as the video finished, but not before another of your screams rang out through the speakers.

Dean jumped out of the Impala, slamming the door behind him. He beat his fists on the roof, and kicked at the tires. The rage inside was bubbling up, preparing to spill out onto anyone and anything. 

"No!" he yelled, the angry tears he had tried to keep in streaming down his face. Sam got out of the car as well and spoke to Dean over the roof of the Impala, stopping him just before he threw his fist through the window.

"Dean... Dean! We'll get her back. And we'll make them pay. But you need to focus. We have to figure out where she is." Sam's words seemed to pull Dean out of his rage fuelled stupor. His eyes narrowed in determination. Sam was right, he would make Abaddon pay.

"Sammy, I will tear that black-eyed bitch to pieces. With my bare hands, I swear. She dies. Now."

 

You slowly came back to consciousness, flinching at the sting of somebody slapping you awake. Squinting the one eye that wasn't swollen shut at the light shining in your face, you could make a few figures in front of you. Assuming Abaddon would be somewhere in the room, you addressed her.

"Abaddon, you slimy old demon bitch, if you know what's good for you, you'll kill me now. Because when I get out of here, and I mean when not if, you'll wish you did. What the boys did to you will  seem like a picnic in the park compared to what I'll dish up on your ass!" The light moved away from your face and you recognised Abaddon's silhouette directly in front of you. She laughed to herself, like there was some inside joke you weren't privy to. Leaning in close, she spoke barely over a whisper.

"Oh I'll kill you. Don't worry about that Bambi. But I want your pet Winchesters to watch. They received a little video of our earlier fun, and I'm sure they are hot on our heels. You see, the Winchester's don't seem to stay dead very long. But witnessing your screams slowly fade is better than death."

You turned your head and spat at Abaddon, throwing all sorts of curses and insults in her direction. The plan had been to play it cool, but imagining Dean watching a video of your torture had broken something in you. Your self-control was gone and you thrashed and fought against the rope above your head, kicking your legs out at the demons around you. The heel of your left foot connected with the back of Abaddon's knee as she walked away, causing her to trip and fall. Her eyes turned black as she grabbed the nearest demon henchman of her.

"Break them." She pointed at your legs.


	2. Desperate Times

The demon raised a crowbar above his head, a sick smile on his face as he brought it down to your legs. Milliseconds before it connected with you, you awoke from the dream with a start and jerked into an upright position. The pain that radiated through your broken body forced you to collapse against the wall behind you. Breathing heavily through the agony, you observed your surroundings. They'd thrown you into a windowless box of a room. Concrete floors, plain cinderblock walls and a single light bulb. The door looked very solid, with no handle or lock on the inside. Well, at least you were alone.

Unfortunately, your nightmare was of the flashback variety and you gingerly ran your fingers over the large bulge on your left shin. It was broken, that was obvious, but the bone hadn't penetrated the skin. Moving up to your thigh, you probed gently, and bit on your bottom lip in pain. It didn't feel broken to the extent of your shin, but some damage had definitely been done. Luckily for you, Abaddon had been satisfied with only one leg broken.

Nobody had bothered to tie you up, considering it was very unlikely you'd be moving on your own anytime soon. You flexed your wrists, rubbing at the marks left behind by the rope. Bruises decorated your skin in bright shades of blue and purple and cuts of varying depths littered your body. You leaned to one side, exposing the burn above your hip to the dim light. Where they had attached the jumper cables was burnt and a little blackened. You didn't dare touch it, infection was probably already developing.

Dizzy and nauseous from the pain of exploration, you leant back against the brick wall and closed your eyes once more.

 

Dean shook the can of red paint, ready to go over the existing devils trap on the floor to ensure it's security. Sam lit the candles and placed them accordingly around the sigil drawn on the table. A bowl of mixed ingredients needed for the ritual was ready on the table as well.

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked Dean, looking up from the table. "You really think we can trust him to help us? Because the stakes are pretty damn high here." Finishing his paint job, Dean threw the can angrily across the room.

"You think this is my first choice?" he demanded, gesturing to the set up around them. "Do you honestly think for a second that I would choose to trust Crowley with Y/N's life when I have better options? And yes, the stakes are fucking high. Every second you spend doubting me is another second Abaddon has to-" His voice caught as he thought back to the video of your torture. Your screams echoed in his mind and he fought to gain back control of his thoughts.

"We'll get her back, Dean. Whatever it takes." Sam reassured him.

"Damn straight we will. Now let's summon this bastard."

Grabbing his knife off the table, Dean slid the blade over his palm, allowing his blood to flow out and dribble into the bowl below. He grabbed a cloth to hold over the cut and lit a match. Uttering the incantation, he threw the match in the bowl. Its contents caught on fire and suddenly Crowley appeared in the devils trap in front of them. He seemed to have been in the middle of a conversation, stopping mid-sentence to spin around and face the Winchesters.

"Bullocks." he muttered. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock?" Crowley's reference to Sam's mother caught him a scowl from the younger brother.

"Ah, yes. Well I guess she didn't, Moose. But enough about that, what mess have you made this time?"

Dean stepped forward, a menacing look in his eyes. Crowley was usually wary of the Winchesters, it was safer that way. But this time, it was different. The murderous air Dean had about him was enough to have the King of Hell truly on edge.

"Time to shut up. You listen to me, now. You are going to help us. Abaddon took something of mine and I'm going to take it back. Your job here is to point me in the right direction and then get the hell out of my way. Got it?"

Finished, Dean leant back against the table and folded his arms over his chest. 'So help me God, if he isn't one hundred percent helpful, I swear...' he thought. Dean tried to hide the fact that Crowley was their one and only good lead to Abaddon, so he covered his doubt with aggressive confidence. He shot Crowley the meanest glare he could muster, despite his nagging desire to get down on his knees and beg.

"Well then, I guess since you asked so nicely..." Crowley paused. "No. Here's a thought, how's about you clean up your own mess for once?" He smiled smugly. It was obvious the Winchesters were desperate and he wanted to watch them squirm. Dean snatched his shotgun from beside the table, pointing it at Crowley, his finger on the trigger. Sam hurried forward and put his hand on the barrel of the gun, forcing Dean to lower it. With his eyes, Sam warned Dean to cool it.

"Crowley. We all know what Abaddon wants most- your crown. And I can't imagine she'll be particularly kind to you once she's the Queen of Hell. So consider it a 'you scratch our backs, we'll scratch yours' kind of thing." Sam said. He knew Crowley was first and foremost a salesman. All he had to do was make him a decent offer. The King of Hell wouldn't do anything for free.

"And how exactly do you plan on 'scratching my back'?"

Dean slammed his fist down in the table, making both Crowley and Sam flinch in surprise. This conversation was taking too long in his mind, and Dean was all too aware of what each precious minute was costing you.

"I'll rip that bitch's fucking head clean off her shoulders! How's that for you? Once I get my hands on Abaddon, there won't be enough of her left to threaten your beloved throne. Now. We are on a timer here so less talking, more pointing."

Crowley took half a step backward, observing Dean's agitated state. Dean definitely meant it, that was certain. Although he would fail, Dean was going to try his hardest to kill Abaddon. But for Dean to be this worked up, Abaddon must've taken something very important... Or maybe it wasn't something.

"You said she took something of yours, Dean. Are you sure you didn't mean someone?"

"That's not your concern." Dean clenched his jaw, his mouth a tight scowl and angry veins visible in his neck. This time it was Crowley that Sam gave a look of warning. That was all Crowley needed to know to confirm his suspicions.

"I did notice this place was feeling a little empty. Almost like we're missing somebody... Oh yes! How is dear Bambi?

Sam had to jump out in front of Dean to hold him back. Dean yelled mostly incoherent profanities at Crowley, threatening him with the worst torture he could come up with.

"Enough!" Sam yelled as he shoved Dean back. He turned to Crowley.

"Are you going to help us or not?"

Crowley took a moment's pause, thinking back to the first time he'd met you. You'd instantly caught his attention when you stabbed one of his hench-demons simply because Crowley had called you the Winchester's mascot. He liked your fiery temper, and although you're hotheadedness had gotten you in plenty of trouble in the past, this time it was a blessing.

"I will help. But not for you two. I'm helping Bambi. For some reason I like that little mascot of yours. Dunno why she ended up with you idiots. Maybe she'll consider switching teams when she finds out I helped you."

"Never." Dean spat at Crowley.

"Where would Abaddon have taken her?" Sam asked. He was upset, just like Dean. Damn, he was angry as hell. But he managed to put it aside to focus on what needed to be done. Luckily he could, since that was currently beyond Dean's capability.

"I happen to have a few loyal subjects who are currently playing nice with Abaddon and her merry band of defectors. They're due to check in with information any moment now. If they don't already know, they will be able to find out."

Dean calmed down considerably at this news and Sam too sighed in relief. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

 

After he promised to be in touch as soon as he heard anything, Sam released Crowley from the devils trap and he disappeared. Cleaning up after the summoning ritual, Sam finally let his thoughts settle on you. Since receiving that video, he'd pushed the image of your torture to the back of his mind. He loved you like the sister-in-law you'd surely be one day and it broke his heart to see you in that much pain. Unlike Dean, it didn't break his focus. Instead, it lasered in on the task ahead. There was no time for falling apart. You needed, no, you relied upon his ability to keep his head on straight.

Sam found Dean in the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and an empty glass in the other. He stood looking at them blankly, as if he'd forgotten what he was going to do. Sam gently took them from him and sat them on the counter. Dean lifted his head and looked up at Sam, tears glistening in his bloodshot eyes.

"I can't lose her, Sammy. I just...can't."

 

The door to your cell opened, scraping across the floor. You tried to sit up straighter, somehow readying yourself for a fight.  Abaddon walked in, her heels clicking on the concrete floor. She knelt down beside you and wiggled a video camera in your face.

"Time to make your Dean-y boy another movie, I think." She said in a sickly sweet voice, like how you would talk to a child. Your heart raced. Another? That means... Realisation flooded your mind. Dean had watched them torture you. He'd seen them beat you and cut on you. He must've heard you scream as they electrocuted you and snapped the bones in your leg. You imagined his reaction, and hoped like hell he hadn't done anything stupid. You made up your mind then. Abaddon would not get the satisfaction of recording your screams. No matter what they threw at you, there would be no more fuel added to the fire.

"Do your worst." you said to Abaddon, steeling yourself for whatever was coming your way.

"Oh sweetie, don't you worry. Mama's got a big surprise for you." Abaddon placed a hand over your shin and leant on it, smiling evilly all the while. You ground your teeth and threw your head back, fighting tears and screams that lingered in your eyes and throat. Digging your fingernails into your palms, you focused your mind on Dean's face. He's coming to get me, he's coming to get me. You repeated it like a mantra in your head until Abaddon finally released the pressure.

"Let's go." she ordered, and two demons stepped in to haul you to your feet and drag you from your cell.


End file.
